Once I was a Tree
by Zemmiphobia
Summary: There are many things about Ferelden that Sten does not understand but there is one thing in particular that only confuses him. But perhaps Mahariel can shed some light on this matter in a way that makes sense to him . F!WardenXSten implied.


_Once I was a Tree, Now I am a Bow_

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age copyrights.

_**a/n: There is romance if you squint REALLY hard. But I will probably do something a little more romantic between these two later, if you're interested.**_

000ooo000

The sound was slowly driving him mad. It echoed in his ears like the buzzing of a thousand bees, a symphony of tuneless noise. Finally, just when he felt like his brain would begin to crawl out of his skull, it stopped. Startled at the near silence, he turned to look at the shadow figure sitting next to the fire. The woman, if she was indeed one, had frozen altogether and now, instead of her infernal humming, was staring off into the night sky. She hardly looked like she was even breathing. He wondered briefly if this was a new, elven habit that she had yet to reveal but when she still hadn't started up again after a few minutes, doubts began to plague him. Rising from his seat near his tent, Sten moved closer to the flickering light to where she was sitting.

"May I join you, warden?" He asked, his voice rolling like low thunder in the half silence. The others, though they made little noise, were far from quiet. Startled, the tiny creature blinked up at him with wide eyes, proving to him that her thoughts had been far from their camp. When she nodded, he let himself slid smoothly onto the ground all the while contemplating his new commander. It was something that he had been doing often of late. He knew little of the Dalish, this was true, but somehow Sten knew that even for her own kind, she could be considered odd. What elf, for instance, would risk her own life to save even the most ungrateful human not once, but many times when it would have been simpler to have just let them die? Yes, she was odd.

She was also humming. Again. He bit back a large sigh and looked down at the top of her dark hair where it was bent over the bow in her lap.

"_Imekari_, what is this that you sing? I have heard it often." The owlish eyes of the warden once more shot to seek his own, though he was unsure if her confusion was over the unfamiliar word, his question, or even the fact that he had spoken at all. He did not have to wait long for his answer, however.

"O-oh, well, its an old song. I'd say it was an elvish lullaby, but I don't think the city-elves sing it." Sten watched as she tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled at him. He did not return it.

"_Lullaby_?" He asked instead, turning the new term over his tongue. He did not like the word, it sounded…soft.

"It's what mothers sing to babies to make them go to sleep." Definitely soft then. "I know it's silly, but it's one of the few songs that actually managed to stick in my head. I guess I should have paid more attention to the battle songs, huh?" She paused, as if waiting for him to reply to this, but when he remained silent she returned to polishing her bow.

"May I ask something of you, warden?" She looked up, wary.

"This isn't another comment on my gender, is it? I don't think I can take another one of those." Sten held his tongue and after a moment she sighed heavily, waving him on. "Alright, go ahead."

"Why is it that you claim to be a warrior? Surely you and your kind must see that you are ill-suited to this path? How can one go into battle when their heart breaks over the mere carcass of a wolf?"

"That's three questions." The woman quipped, the sides of her mouth twitching. When he refused to answer her ill-humor, she sighed again and held up her bow to the light. "Who designed the bow?" she questioned aloud. "Who was it that looked at a small piece of wood and said, 'I will make this a weapon'?" She turned her eyes to the fire, a sadness in them that he could not place. "Once upon a time, I would have not been a warrior. I would have been a mother… a lover of all things. I would have been bursting with life. But," she said, looking up at him, " that was then and this is now. Once I was a tree, now I am a bow; shaped into a weapon so that I can protect life rather than bring it forth."

Sten dipped his head to acknowledge her words and a smile bloomed across her face. "As for the wolf bodies, I can't help it, I like dogs and wolves look a lot like dogs. I wouldn't be pointing any fingers, though, I _saw_ that kitten the other day." Sten narrowed his eyes, pinning her with the force of his glare. "I will speak the same to you as the Orlesian; there was _no_ kitten."

"_Ma nuvenin._" She said, smiling despite his intimidation. She did not speak again, even when he rose from his spot and returned to his tent. As he opened the flap to step inside, however, he could hear the lilting notes of her song begin again. This time, however, the song did not remind him of the humming of bees… but rather the sound of a bowstring.

000ooo00

END

_**a/n: I recommend looking up the languages of Dragon Age, they're pretty cool!**_


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